To be dispatcht upon a sleeveless errand? To leave my friend engag'd, mine honour tainted? These are trim things. I am set here like a Perdue, To watch a fellow, that has wrong'd my Mistris, A scurvy fellow that must pass this way, But what this scurvy fellow is, or whence, Or whether his name be William or John, Or Anthony or Dick, or any thing, I know not; A scurvy rascally fellow I must aim at, And there's the office of an Asse flung on me. Sure Cleremont has fought, but how come off, And what the world shall think of me hereafter: Well, woman, woman, I must look your rascals, And lose my reputation: ye have a fine power over us. These two long hours I have trotted here, and curiously Survey'd all goers by, yet find no rascal, Nor any face to quarel with: What's that? [La-writ (sings within, then Enters.). This is a rascally voice, sure it comes this way. (La-writ: He strook so hard, the Bason broke, And Tarquin heard the sound.) What Mister thing is this? let me survey it.

Din Monologue from The Little French Lawyer: A Comedy

Rehearse Din's monologue